


A Lark Learning to Pray

by genesius



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/F, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, also the four horsemen are collectively rolf, aziraphale is maria, beelzebub is uncle max, crowley is the captain, except for death who plays the role of herr zeller, gabriel is the baroness, no crowley and gabriel are not in a romantic relationship don't worry, no i will not take criticism, the them and warlock are the children ofc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24151969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genesius/pseuds/genesius
Summary: The Sound of Music but it's Good Omens.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub & Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub & Gabriel (Good Omens), Crowley & Gabriel (Good Omens), The Them & Adam Young (Good Omens), Warlock Dowling & Adam Young, Warlock Dowling & The Them (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. Dulcedo Ineffabilis

The night faded into morning.

The sounds of dawn's breaking rang through the air: the leaves in the trees and the grass of the earth applauded, and water skipped and danced across stones. The branches hummed old, forgotten tunes; the birds of the air searched for their morning meal. The creatures of the day blearily opened their eyes, and the beasts of night began their descent to comfortable darkness. The chirps of crickets faded into the songs and hymns of birds.

These hours had always felt sacred to Azira. They were a liminal time, when the sky was too light to really be called dark, and when the sun was hiding too far below the mountains to be called day. Rarely was anyone else awake.

When she had first stepped beyond the abbey gates that morning, the air was cool, like a refreshing sip of lemonade. Now, higher in the hills, the dew began to lift with the slowly rising heat. Azira spread her cloak on the ground and lay atop it among the grass, and looked up at the sky as it turned from navy to turquoise to pale blue.

She could spend hours up here, just listening to the ancient symphony of nature. It was calm and chaos, all at once, and Azira never felt as close to God as she did in these small moments, no sounds but the lilting birdsong, the laughing breeze, the singing church bells… 

…wait.

Azira sat up, her halo of short, cream-colored hair waving lightly, and listened. There were the birds, there was the breeze, there were the last remaining cricket chirps… and, sure enough, there was the echoing ring of the long-lived church bells, calling the world to mass.

"Oh dear," Azira muttered under her breath with the ease of a woman who had spent her whole childhood learning how not to curse and certainly wasn't going to start _now._ She hurriedly stood and gathered up her cloak and wimple and glanced back longingly at the hill - _her_ hill - once more, before rushing down its slope, back to the worn dirt path, back to the cobblestone roads, back to the abbey.


	2. A Headache, An Angel, A Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: use of the word dyke in reference to azira (it's shadwell what do you expect)

Angelic voices rang through the hills from St. Cecilia Abbey, as they had for hundreds of years, and Aziraphale was nowhere to be seen.

Not that this was an uncommon occurrence, per se. 

Sister Tracy had rather liked the young woman she had met a few years ago, mischievous and lighthearted and deeply devoted to God in a way that made her old heart swell. Azira had told her stories about how she would skip past the abbey gates as a little girl, stopping and listening to and even praying with the sacred songs the nuns chanted at mass.

Sister Tracy had known from the beginning that she would never be a perfect nun - she also, after all, recalled witnessing a little girl (who looked a bit too much like Azira for it to  _ not _ be her) stealing apples from the abbey garden as a child - but she also knew that God had sent the young woman to the abbey for one reason or another, no matter how ineffable that reason was.

And all this wasn't to say she didn't still like her. She loved her, in fact, as she would her own younger sister (and indeed, she was, technically, in Christ, of course). She was just a bit… well. Absent-minded, she'd call it.

Sister Agnes (Anathema before her vows), a young nun with dark, searching eyes resting behind circular glasses, was walking at Sister Tracy's right when she spoke. "I know we aren't supposed to gossip," she murmured in her ear, "but this is the third time this month Azira's missed daily mass."

"Oh, come now, Sister Agnes," Sister Tracy chided lightly, "talking about her behind her back won't do anyone any good."

"But, Sister Tracy," Sister Newton, another nun who had recently taken her vows, said at her left, "she'll get in trouble, won't she?"

"She's a perfectly capable young lady, Sister Newton, I'm sure she'd be fine if it were to come to that." 

"I suppose you're right," she replied, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, and the conversation slid back into silence.

Or, well, as silent as distant ranting could be. Father Shadwell, one of the priests who regularly said mass at St. Cecilia's, was having a particularly loud conversation with their Reverend Mother in the courtyard.

"I'm of th'opinion that you're bein' ridiculous, keepin that dyke amongst our holy women here!" he was saying, waving his hands around like a madman, what few wisps of white hair that remained on his head shivering with every movement of his head. "We cannae have that sinner amongst your youngsters! What diabolical influences could you be letting in with her presence!?"

The abbess simply stood before him, her hands folded, listening to his words with the serenity and patience of sinless Eden as the three nuns walked up to their conversation.

"Hello, Sisters," said Reverend Mother, nodding once to each of them in greeting, her ever-present smile gentle. "Father Shadwell and I were just discussing the future of one of our postulants. What do you three think of Azira?"

"Oh, she's fine, I guess," Sister Agnes said as she rested her hands in her habit pockets. "She's a very good person - I mean, I feel like I can see her soul, bright as day - but. You know. The sun can be blinding."

"Reverend Mother?" Sister Newton piped up.

"Yes, Sister Newton?"

"Er," she began, then cleared her throat, "I don't know if I'm… allowed to  _ say _ this, really, but I, er. I  _ have  _ seen her reading… non-religious books."

The abbess smiled, a glint of amusement in her eye. "We don't exactly have rules  _ against  _ reading outside literature, Sister Newton."

"Oh! And," Sister Agnes began again, "I don't think she's been showing up for mass enough!"

"Oh, but you said so yourself, Sister Agnes!" Sister Tracy said, turning to her. "She has a wonderful heart. She's really very deeply devout."

"With all due respect, Sisters," Father Shadwell interrupted, "she hasn't just been late for chapel. She's been late for  _ everything. _ Lateness is no way to show devotion to God, let alone devotion to life at the abbey. She hasn't taken anything ye've taught her."

"Well, Father Shadwell," Sister Tracy admonished, "give credit where credit is due! Azira  _ has _ shown up for meals on time."

"So we're goin' to praise her f'r committin' the sins of negligence and gluttony!?" Father Shadwell threw his hands up in the air, looking up at God with incredulity. "First ye insist on keepin' a dyke within these hallowed walls, and now we're sayin' that very sinner, that very  _ demon, _ is fit to be a nun! Absolutely ridiculous!"

"Father Shadwell, really, now! She's just a lamb!"

"We have to forgive her, Father Shadwell," Sister Newton said, stepping closer to Sister Tracy in support. "Isn't that… sort of the whole point?"

"Young Newt, you're still very new to this life, I wouldn't expect ye to understand the full breadth of dedication you need before ye can take y'r vows."

"I've… already taken my vows," Sister Newton objected. 

Father Shadwell blinked. "Aye?"

Sister Newton nodded.

He looked impressed, which was not an easy feat for a rough face like his. "Well done."

"Thank you, Father."

" _ Now, _ " he said, turning on his heel back towards the abbess. "Regarding the impossible dyke in yer midst-"

"Really, Father Shadwell, I think you're being too hard on the poor girl. She's a wonderful person to have around," Sister Tracy insisted.

"What does she do for the abbey as a whole? Hm?" he asked, spinning back around to face the sister. "Answer me that."

"Well," Sister Tracy began, upon which the sound of a slamming door reverberated through the courtyard, and through it came running none other than Azira, her wimple and cloak crumpled haphazardly in her arm. She did not notice the four nuns and one priest staring directly at her, and she was soon behind another set of doors.

"Speak o' th' devil," Father Shadwell muttered. "Lass could drive a hornet from its nest."

Sister Tracy tutted at him. "Oh, nonsense, Father Shadwell, she's an angel!"

"She's a headache's what she is!"

"She can be annoying, yeah," Sister Agnes admitted, "but she's trying her best, isn't she?"

"Well, I say her  _ best  _ isn't fit f'r the abbey! Aye?" Father Shadwell insisted, turning to the abbess for some support.

Her replying smile, serene as ever, neither agreed or disagreed.

* * *

"You may go in, Azira," said Sister Tracy.

Azira didn't realize her face had been twisted in worry until Sister Tracy's warm touch on her arm relaxed her. She looked up at the elder nun for a moment, and Sister Tracy nodded.  _ You can do this,  _ her gaze said.

Azira breathed and stepped past Sister Tracy into the dimly-lit office, quietly shutting the door behind her.

"Reverend Mother," she began, stepping to the chair in front of the desk before her, "I'm terribly sorry-"

"I didn't summon you here for you to ask for forgiveness, Azira," the abbess said simply.

"Oh, please let me ask for forgiveness!" Azira insisted. 

Reverend Mother's ever-present smile twitched up in slight amusement. "If it will make you feel better."

"You see," continued Azira, "The hills were beckoning and I felt as if it was God's will that I experience creation in all of its glory, and the abbey gates were open and I just had to go and take it all in!"

Reverend Mother looked at Azira, which always felt less like she was looking at her and rather more like she was looking  _ into  _ her.

"What if it had begun raining?"

Azira sputtered for a moment. "Ah, well, I could, you know, wear my raincoat," she eventually managed, looking very deliberately everywhere else but into the abbess's eyes.

"And where is your raincoat, Azira?"

Azira could feel her cheeks burning. 

"Ah, the, er, big, er, coat, you say? Well. I haven't needed it for a while, I'm sure it's somewhere!"

"Azira," said Reverend Mother.

Azira sighed. "I… I gave it away, Reverend Mother. Just two days ago." She looked up at the abbess. "You see, that poor couple had looked so cold, and they were already soaked to the bone, and I could see a child in one of their arms and I couldn't just  _ leave _ them, but I had to get back here, and it was only a two-minute walk away, so I said 'Here you go, raincoat, don't thank me, and try and get somewhere more sheltered from the rain,' and, oh, Reverend Mother, I'm sorry, I just couldn't-"

"Some people would call that generosity."

"Oh, but it was terrible, Reverend Mother! I was being careless with my possessions and-"

"Azira?"

A beat.

"Yes, Reverend Mother?"

The abbess's eyes were narrowed, as if studying Azira.

"Do you think you're truly prepared for life at the abbey?"

"Well, no, but I, I pray, and I try, and I do think I am learning, Reverend Mother," Azira replied.

"What is the most important thing you've learned here, Azira?"

Azira blinked. "Er, to… to learn what God's will is, and… to do it wholeheartedly."

The abbess leaned forward and folded her hands on the desk.

"Azira," she said, then paused, as if she knew her next words would not be taken well. "It seems to me that the will of God is that you leave us."

"Leave?" Azira asked, her eyes widening.

"Only for a while, now that you know what we expect of you here."

"But- but- Reverend Mother, you can't ask me to leave! This is my home, my family! I… I'm not sure I have anywhere else to go," she said, looking down at her now fidgeting hands.

The abbess was silent. She only looked at Azira, her gaze filled with a knowledge and wisdom no one could really understand.

"Come here, Azira."

Azira looked up. The abbess gestured for her to come closer, and so she leaned forward, and the abbess took her hands in hers.

Her hands felt like a blanket. Warm, heavy, grounding. This is what Azira had chased, all those years ago, when she was trying to find somewhere to belong.

She  _ had _ to belong here. If she couldn't belong here….

"When a door closes, somewhere God opens a window," the abbess said, her thumbs' caress comforting in the midst of racing thoughts. "I wouldn't send you somewhere I know you can't handle."

Azira smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

The abbess let go of her hands and lifted a piece of paper on her desk. "There's a family near Salzburg that needs a governess until August."

"August?"

"To take care of five children," continued Reverend Mother, without missing a beat.

"Five!?"

"Do you like children, Azira?"

"Well, er, yes, they're wonderful, they're God's creations, and, of course, one should be like a child when one enters into heaven," Azira faltered. 

"I will let Captain Crowley know to expect you tomorrow," said the abbess simply, paying no mind to Azira's ramblings.

"Er, captain?"

"A former officer in the army - a fine person, and a brave one," Reverend Mother assured. "The captain adopted the children after returning from service several years ago, and has been raising them since then, but says it's been difficult keeping a governess in recent years."

Azira shifted in her seat. "Why, er, difficult, Reverend Mother?"

The abbess smiled. "God will show you in time, Azira."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck it i'm posting chapters as i go no one can stop me. no this will not be updated regularly yes i am writing it yes i am SUPER EXCITED i love u all and hope you have a great day. kudos to MickyRC for being my beta and cheering me on through this process lov u  
> -ginny


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